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Losing Ground on NaNoWriMo

The infamous end-of-week-two strikes again. Ever since I got out of high school, I’ve found myself falling behind by the thirteenth of the month in NaNoWriMo. Goodness only knows why I should fall behind now that I have only fifteen hours of work a week, instead of a mandatory high-school attendance from 7-in-the-god-forsaken-morning until two-in-the-can’t-get-here-soon-enough-afternoon.

I didn’t manage more than 1,000 words today, and I was already about 3,000 behind. I’m going to wake up tomorrow even more behind than I was today. It’s scary when

I always thought that as time went by I would write more and more, faster and faster. It’s hard not to see my slowing pace and diminished annual output as failure, but I have to remember how much else I’m doing now. The sheer time and energy it takes to try to get any of this hodge-podge storytelling published seems to suck a lot out of me. Still, I’m told that the best thing I can do if I want to be published is to never stop writing. That’s one aspect of my writing that’s under my control: how many words and stories I actually sit down and hammer out. Editors and publishers aside, I still have the choice to continue writing.

It’s scary to realize during NaNoWriMo that somedays you can’t even hold the line. When you’re already behind—hopelessly behind, as some might mistakenly say—it can be hard to will yourself just to get a 1,667 words in so you don’t wake up the next day anymore behind than you were this morning. I’m fortunately not that far behind right now, but there’s definitely been years like that. Once, on day fifteen, I scrapped all 13,000-some-odd words I had and started a new book. I still pulled it off. If I could do that, I know you can still make it to your goal too. And if you can make it to your goal, I’m sure I can make it to mine this year!

At least, that’s the theory. 5,000 words to go tomorrow…the month’s half over, and I’m lingering right at a charming 40% completion. I have a feeling that the final week is going to be an ugly mess of huddling in my room quietly, typing furiously.

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